Fernando
by Hyyp chick
Summary: Author: Hyyp chick Pairing: Anakin/Obi-Wan Rating: R Disclaimer: Do not own, not mine, no way no how. Summary: Anakin and Obi-wan have feelings for each other, but will the other ever find out? Set in the Clone wars.


Author: Hyyp chick  
Pairing: Anakin/Obi-Wan  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: Do not own, not mine, no way no how.  
Summary: Anakin and Obi-wan have feelings for each other, but will the other ever find out? Set in the Clone wars.

Darkness shrouded the planet, the battlefield, the camp, and the tent; only shadows and silhouettes could be made out under the soft illuminance of the pale blue moon. Obi-wan could hear the rhythmic breathing of the young man next to him as he slept soundly and turned his head to see the canvas distorted moonlight play over his boyish face and tumbling mess of curls. The Knight's serenity made him smile if only because it was the only time Anakin Skywalker had any - in a peaceful, wistful, faraway slumber; but also because Obi-wan could look at him, really look at him, and be mesmerised by his youthful beauty.

The roar of cannon fire raged in the distance, a low din pounding mirthlessly and relentlessly in both discord and rhyme against the rustle of the trees in the forest where they lay their camp and the hushed murmurs of the troops that surrounded them. Silently, with his eyes still fixated on Anakin, Obi-wan reached under his pillow and pulled out the silky blonde braid he kept hidden there. He fingered it absently, brushing it's smoothness against his cheek and breathing in the scent of Anakin that resonated within the plaited hairs; he could almost taste him and Obi-wan pressed a forlorn kiss into the braid with all the emotion as if it were the boy himself, and sighed as he twisted the tendril around his fingers like a schoolgirl playing cat's cradle, his eyes learning every line on the sleeping Knight's face for the thousandth time over.

Obi-wan rolled onto his back and stared up at the canvas willing away his feelings for the boy. It had been easy to dismiss them when Anakin had been a Padawan because of the position of authority Obi-wan found himself in. And on Coruscant in the wake of Anakin's Knighthood he had been given his own quarters so avoiding his growing affection was made all the more simple. But when it came to war team Kenobi-Skywalker were in constant proximity and for nearly six straight months they had been in each other's pockets in the consumable loneliness of the outer rim territories; flying together, fighting together, eating together, sleeping together, in fact Obi-wan would be surprised if their clone units could tell them apart given their inseparability.

Anakin twitched in his sleep and it caught his Master's attention. With a disgruntled huff he shifted his position, kicking out with his feet as he tugged the blanket almost up over his head and let out an irritated groan as his toes became exposed to the cold. Obi-wan chuckled to himself and slipped out of bed, removing his top blanket and gently laying it over Anakin. He knew how much the boy hated to be cold and Obi-wan wouldn't complain about the elements if it meant Anakin was comfortable and happy.

He perched on his own bed drinking in the sight of the handsome young male as his body sank restfully into the added warmth his Master had given him. Obi-wan steepled his hands tightly over his mouth and sighed a damning hot breath into them before he trailed his fingers through his grimy dishevelled hair. The pale lunar illumination creeping in through the walls of the tent suddenly caught in a diamond sparkle over the cold silver metal of Anakin's lightsaber hilt that lay ready and waiting by his bedside.

Obi-wan collected the weapon into his hands admiring it reverently as he traced his strong calloused fingers over the hand grip and closed the long metal shaft within his palm, stroking its length purposefully as Anakin's strength and power echoed throughout the sword. Obi-wan wielded the handle in a silent display of technique, without of course igniting the blade, and pictured in his mind's eye the instrument in the grip of his partner. The boy's confident stance and a swagger that bordered on arrogance, the way his muscles rippled with the dance of the fight, the sweat that would sheen him from exertion and wrap his soft blonde curls tighter, gluing them damply to his head; his ability to move preternaturally with grace, aptitude, and strength, the azure blade a devastating beauty as it cavorted in his hands from death blow to death blow. The weapon was as deadly as it was attractive, much like Anakin, and Obi-wan could bare his emotions no longer.

Leaving the lightsaber and the braid atop his crumpled bed he picked up his cloak and ventured outside. He gazed up at the full moon casting its ashen glow over the encampment before pulling his hood up over his head to shield him from the low temperature of nightfall. Lonely, he trudged away from the hubbub until he reached a small mound on the edge of the trees where he sat in the semi-darkness, picking idly at grasses, the sound of war beating like a drum to the rhythm of his heart far away in the distance.

*****

Anakin woke with a start from a dream too intense to continue in the confines of a tent with the object of his dream's desire, only to find himself alone. He concluded logically that his Master had had a call of nature and was thankful for his absence given Anakin's sometime habit of verbalising his dreams. Unless he'd said something that had made his Master leave…

Anakin's brow furrowed in a sudden concern and he tried to sit up in order to ascertain where he was and what time in might be but found himself swaddled in a number of blankets greater than that he remembered going to sleep in. A glance over at Obi-wan's bed confirmed that Anakin had acquired his top sheet but something else caught his eye; his lightsaber, not where he had left it but laid discarded by Obi-wan's pillow. Why had Obi-wan had Anakin's lightsaber? Had there been some kind of danger?

Anakin dismissed the idea because Obi-wan had his own weapon to fight with but it still didn't explain how it had gotten where it now lay. Curiously, and with a niggling feeling that something was amiss, Anakin swathed himself in blankets and crawled out of bed to retrieve his sword. It was only on closer inspection that he found his lightsaber entangled with his own braid.

Anakin hadn't seen his braid since his Knighting and he'd assumed that Yoda or Obi-wan had disposed of it somehow; what did he care what happened to the plait? Without it Anakin Skywalker was a real Jedi, a Knight, a man. But he'd never entertained the thought that Obi-wan could have kept it, and why would he have kept it? And having done so shouldn't it be laying in some dark forgotten corner of a box somewhere in Obi-wan's apartment in the Temple on Coruscant? Why on earth would the Jedi Master carry his Padawan's braid into the field on some god forsaken planet they had been sent to wage war on?

Anakin wound the satiny hair around his forefinger and regarded it fondly. He had been privileged to be Obi-wan's Padawan, he'd known that since the beginning, but how Obi-wan had ever put up with him was beyond comprehension and he was honoured that here he was, a Jedi Knight, and Obi-wan still wanted him by his side.

But for the moment he sat alone; wondering if his Master had heard his dreams and pondering his next move, threading the soft plait between his fingers as he did so. The constant din of gun, grenade, and orders played like a backdrop to Anakin's thoughts though he didn't register the sound he was so used to it being there.

In his dream he and Obi-wan had been in a lake in a time when there was no war. The water was refreshingly cool but not cold and the scent of flowers flooded their olfactory systems as the sound of exotic birds twittered among the trees and water fell in a torrent over the rocks, crashing noisily into the lake below. They had swam out to the waterfall and splashed irreverently in it's spray, laughing and giggling like children at play, diving beneath the surface to taunt and tease the other underwater.

Then they had been lying out on the sun-kissed shore to dry, playing parlour word games as they wiled away the time, a gentle breeze stirring the trees and tickling over the skin on their bodies. Then they had been kissing; Anakin submissive as his Master straddled his thighs, the kiss turning from a chaste and tender exchange to a deep and passionate need. Then Obi-wan had slipped his hand between Anakin's thighs and Anakin could hear himself moan as his writhed into his Master's touch, panting his name as the heat inside him built, as Obi-wan ravaged hungry kisses over his collar bone and shoulders, then…he'd woken up.

He looked out at the chink of moon flooding in through the gap in the opening of the tent and decided he needed a walk. Well he really needed something else but he wasn't prepared to do so in the confines of shared quarters when Obi-wan could return any moment, and although he knew the Jedi Master would understand the loneliness and needs of a man at war he wasn't so sure he would be so understanding when he heard the Knight breathlessly pant out his name at the height of his rapture, as Anakin knew from experience he had a tendency to do.

Silently he pulled on his boots and his utility belt, sheathing his lightsaber as he stood and placed the braid back on the bed where he'd found it before withdrawing from the confines of the tent.

The camp was quietening as slowly its occupants drifted into their sleep but through the trees and over the plains of this foreign world Anakin could see the neon glow of lasers and the soft orange burn of fire against a blackened sky. He glanced up at the sickly looking moon lighting a trail into the forest and sinking his hands deep into the sleeves of his cloak he followed it.

Obi-wan heard the rustling in the trees behind him but the Force was calm and he sensed no danger; he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his cloak around them as the bitter cold breeze pricked at his skin. Sadly he lay his head on top of them and wondered if he would ever look on the boy again without his heart breaking into a million shards of shattered love, and sighed with the desolate truth of his hope.

Anakin thought maybe he'd gone far enough; he didn't want to stray too far in case a sudden danger arose but he needed some time and some privacy. Facing away from the chill of the wind he leant his back against a tree and with a last check that he was alone he loosened the ties on his trousers and took a hold of his length, shielding his rapid movements as best he could with the folds of his robe.

Obi-wan stirred at the unusual sounds echoing in the forest behind him; ragged breathing, sharp pants, throaty moans. He recognised them immediately because he had heard the ragged breathing and exhausted panting a hundred times and more in the training stalls and on the battlefield, but the throaty moans? He had never been privy to those, and they were beautiful, sexual, sensual, and he wanted to be closer to them.

With the skill of a predatory cat Obi-wan slinked silently among the trees until he caught sight of his prey. He bit his lip to stop an audible gasp from escaping him as he clung behind a tree, peering round to watch Anakin in his ministrations under the moonlight in the depths of the wood.

It felt wrong, violating, an invasion of his Padawan's privacy; he was watching something Anakin intended to be private, had he wanted his Master to watch he wouldn't have snuck out of their tent in the middle of the night and traipsed into the depths of the forest to find his pleasure. But he couldn't leave, he couldn't stop watching, he didn't want to miss a single intimate moan that escaped the Knight's mouth and Anakin was getting close he could sense it in the Force around them, the tension, the passion.

Anakin quickened his pace as he became lost in the memories of his dream and with his own heat staving off the deep chill of the air he reached his free hand back to grip and claw at the bark of the tree, giving his hidden voyeur a perfect view as he brought himself to climax, repeating his desire's name over and over in soft lowly moans as he came spilling his wares uselessly on the ground at his feet.

Obi-wan heard but couldn't believe. This was Anakin Skywalker, Hero with no Fear, he had a hundred admirers, and a hundred people better looking to fantasise about in his moment of ecstasy but he had called out his name, Obi-wan's name. He still couldn't believe it, Obi-wan wanted Anakin and it seemed that with the intervention of the fates Anakin wanted him too.

Still skulking behind a tree, in the dark, in the distance, he watched as Anakin cleaned and tidied himself, kicking a pile of leaves over his sticky mess before pulling his cloak tightly around him and trudging back towards camp.

Obi-wan breathed out as he watched the Knight leave and became painfully aware of how hard Anakin's performance had made him. Feeling the bitter sting of night and a need to be satisfied he crawled out from the shadows and made after Anakin, but with a new found sense of hope that maybe in the loneliness and desolation of war his bed may be full and his heart alone no more.


End file.
